Hi! beloved Stish community, i tried to assemble the second and final part of my fiction story “Trapped”. I hope you guys like it.
I had been waiting for so long to watch them turn yellow and then, red. I ran towards the pepper plant, knelt down and spread my arms like a Chipko activist. “Oh my poor child, have you not heard the news? The flood is coming.
There is no chance of their survival.” Hearing her words, I rose from my position, looked into her eyes and shouted – “Then why don’t you go and gather your unripe paddy, instead? At least you could feed the hay to the cow. They will be dead by tomorrow evening anyway. Haven’t you heard the news, my dear aunt, the flood is coming,” I taunted my aunt with her own words. I could see her demanding eyes growing weak with helplessness. They turned red and watery in a few seconds. She withdrew herself and moved towards the gate, in utter silence.
I felt a surge of happiness at my victory. I looked at the peppers, they were so green and happy. But then, for how long? My aunt was not all together wrong. They will not survive the flood. Nothing so beautiful and fragile has ever survived. I have been trying to save my garden since I heard about the flood. But my father said the water level will far surpass the height of the plants. I know I will not be able to save them, just like my aunt will not be able to save her paddy – which could feed their family for three months. I knew I hurt her. But I could not help myself. Everyone has their own share of loss. She should have known that. I was tired of the almost yearly ‘flood drama’. I heard my father coming back home. The whole day, he had been busy collecting flood supplies. I felt pity for him. “Razeiv, take these grocery items out of the sack”. The sack was full of potatoes, pulses and some grains. “I hoped this would suffice for the flood. I should have bought these things earlier. Today, the price has doubled as the link to the mainland has been disrupted by the flood. We are trapped on this island.”
TRAPPED! The words struck my mind and reminded me of him. I rushed towards the kitchen and to the table where I had trapped him. I realised, I was not alone in the trap. All my neighbours were there, too. The swarm of ants was all over the table. They were sucking up the river of honey, making it narrower. And he was, of course, waiting patiently. I left them to their fate. They didn’t need my interference. I knew he would survive.
So would we.
This fiction story of mine “Trapped” is based upon the flood life which we go through here at North East Assam India almost every year.
Thank you so much for reading at @razeiv #razeivblogs and please comment your love and suggestions.
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